My Love is like a Storybook Story, it's as Real as the Feelings I feel
by Furrina
Summary: At 24, Dave is not ready to settle down in a marriage to someone he hasn't even met. Unfortunately for him, the life doesn't always turn out the way you want it. [Arranged Marriage AU with Mpreg] (intersex!Blaine)
1. Chapter 1

"Hey babe."

Blaine sighed as two large hands wrapped around his waist, gently cradling the swell of his pregnant belly, and pulled him back into the hard, muscle-bound chest. He turned his head to let his husband brush his stubbled chin against his cheek, then press a light kiss to it.

"Hi," he murmured as his husband hooked his chin over his shoulder and breathed into his neck.

"Whatcha doing?" Dave asked quietly. It seemed like that kind of day.

"Thinking," Blaine replied equally softly, leaning back into Dave as his hands came up to rest over his husband's.

"Hmm," Dave hummed pressing a kiss into his neck, as he joined his husband in staring at the little flower garden below.

* * *

><p>In a world where people's roles and position in the society was more or less dependent on what was between their legs, Blaine Anderson was one of the rare ones who had the misfortune of being cursed with both.<p>

From the stories he would later hear, his mother had cried when she first saw him. Cooper, his older brother, had been a perfect little boy, the light of his parent's life, and they had been hoping for a cute little girl to complete their picture perfect family. His father had not only refused to hold him, he had even refused to sign his name on the birth-certificate. The only reason Blaine hadn't been abandoned in some orphanage, or worse, thrown into the dumpster like a piece of trash, was his grandmother, who had stared down her son until he reluctantly agreed to take the baby home.

Once his parents got over their initial shock, it didn't take long for them to accept him as their kid. Of course, they would never be as close as they were with Cooper, but Blaine's childhood wasn't bad by any stretch of imagination.

Since the girls and boys aren't allowed to mingle until they're of a marriageable age, and since there were no schools for people like him, Blaine was home-schooled by his mother. Initially his father started trying to steer him towards manlier pursuits like football and camping, but he had given up when Blaine started showing natural propensity towards music and dressing up.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"I just want to see my grandson before I die. Is that too much to ask?"

Dave sighed and rubbed a palm over his face. "You're barely 45, mom. You're not dying anytime soon."

"You don't know that!" came the high-pitched voice. "I might get into an accident tomorrow."

Dave rolled his eyes and barely refrained from slamming the phone down. He had come a long way from the angst-ridden short-tempered teenager he was, but his mother could try a Saint's patience. He took a deep breath. "You are NOT dying, mother."

There was blessed silence down the line (Dave briefly wondered if he should cut the call before she had the chance to...) then a sob ('_too late_') then another, then another... ('_Great! Now she was crying'_)

Dave sank down on the couch and patiently waited for this mother to finish. "Mom," he said once the sobs had slowed down into quiet snuffles. "You can't just..."

"Just come and meet them. You owe me that at least." Evidently his mom still had a few things in her arsenal. "I never ask anything of you, David. _Please_."

David sighed and hung his head, already hating himself for giving in. "Alright. Fine. Set it up. I will meet them, but I'm not promising anything else."

He could practically see his mother's triumphant grin as she said, "Blaine's a nice guy, David. I know he's the one for you. Mother's inituition."

-x-

David Karofsky, popularly known as 'Dave' or 'Big D' was a former jock-turned-bully-turned-hockey player–turned-sports therapist.

He had been drafted by the Columbus Blues right out of high-school, but a freak accident ended his professional career before it could even start. After a prolonged hospital stay, which ended with a bout of intensive therapy – both physical and psychological – he had decided to return to school, intent on helping others like someone had helped him.

That had been 3 years ago. Now, at 23, Dave Karofsky was a well-settled sports therapist with a steady job, a decent paycheck and a house of his own. 6 months ago he had been hired up as an Asst. Physical Therapist for the AHL team based in Cleveland and, not long after that, his mother had started whining about grandchildren.

Telling his mother he was gay had been as much about getting her off his back, as it had been about Coming Out. All he had wanted was for her to not start _every_ conversation with "I have a friend who has a daughter who is single..." Good thing was, she had stopped setting him up with her friends' daughters; bad thing, she had started looking for a groom for him.

Not that Dave had problem with that. His parents were traditionalists, and he was more than happy to let his mom do all the hard work of finding his partner. She was a good judge of character and he knew she had his best interests at heart.

No, the problem was that he didn't want to settle down just yet. That is, he wasn't even 24 for Christ's sake! And even if most of his high school friends had either gotten married, or were in serious committed relationships, he still wasn't ready for that kind of commitment. He wanted to live his life, sleep around with nameless, faceless strangers, expanding his horizons and getting a taste of freedom, before he found himself tied up in a marriage with some mal-formed guy he didn't even know.

-x-

Of course the life doesn't always turn out the way you want it, _especially_ if your name is David Alan Karofsky, which was how David found himself sitting in a tastefully decorated, immaculate-but-severely-lacking-in-warmth living room, being judged by a tastefully dressed, immaculate-but-severely-lacking-in-warmth lady with a perpetual botox-smile and her tastefully dressed, immaculate-but-severely-lacking-in-warmth husband. Dave was sensing a pattern here.

Dave had no idea how his mother, her own botox-face twisted in a weirdly constipated smile, and his dad, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here, had ever thought this would be a good idea. He was all ready to give up and call it day, when... when _he_ walked in.

_He _ being the sexiest fucking thing Dave had ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on. He was wearing a nice gray suit, the cut and the color flattering his pale complexion and lean body. His fitted trousers gave the impression of being all-legs, even though he didn't seem any taller than Dave. And his face... _umpf_! That face should have been made a national symbol - carved into mountains, painted into murals, printed on every currency... Dark hair framing the deep-set ocean blue eyes, a chiselled jaw, and a smile that could launch a thousand ships... Dave would gladly fight them all, just to see him smile.

Dave was on his feet even before he realised what he was doing. He walked up to _him _ and extended his arm. "Dave Karofsky," he said with his most flirtatious smile.

_He _ smiled, clasping Dave's hand with his, and Dave's heart stuttered to a stop... "Cooper. Cooper Anderson."

Dave blinked. _Cooper? _ Mom had said his name was _Blaine_. His confusion must have shown on his face, because the man gave a sardonic smile. "I'm his brother."

"Oh," Dave muttered, dropping the hand and taking a step back. _Of course._ He had been so _enamoured _ by that pretty face thathe had forgotten that he could _see_ his face. Of _course_, he wasn't the guy. Dave wished he could slap himself for being such a dumbass. _What a great fucking first impression he had made hitting on his future brother-in-law! _ Well. At least he wouldn't have to worry about breaking his mother's heart.

He turned around, ready to make an apology for the gaffe and get the hell out of dodge, but no one was really looking at him. No. Everyone had their eyes trained on the small figure walking into the room, carefully balancing a large tray laden with tea in his hands.

The boy... and he _was_ a boy, barely 19 years old... was about a head shorter than him, slight with a dainty waist curving out into wider hipbones. He was wearing a form-fitting dark blue kurta with black lining that ended up to his knees and fitted black trousers underneath it. The lower half of his face covered with a delicate veil of the similar color, a mop of dark-coloured curls framing his delicate looking face. He raised his eyes upwards and...

Oh. _OH. _Dave was gone. There was something in those steel-blue eyes watching him shyly from under the long lashes that tightened the strings in his heart and _yanked. _Every protest, every complaint he had ever made, every thought of why he didn't want to settle down, they all fizzled up and died. He couldn't, for the life of him, remember why he had fought so hard against this meeting.

"...ave? Dave," Dave tore his eyes away from his future betrothed, to see his mother smiling knowingly back at him. He groaned inwardly. He would have to suffer his mother being obnoxiously smug for the rest of his life.

But, he mused watching his fiancé moving with slow gracefully measured steps, it would totally be worth it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"David?"

"Yes, mother?"

"They're ready for you."

"Yes, mother. Give me two minutes."

"Okay, hurry up."

Mrs. Karofsky turned away from the bathroom door and David heaved a deep sigh. He splashed water over his face and patted it dry, straightened his bow-tie, adjusted his pocket-square, fiddled with the flower on his lapel... Finally, when he could put it off no more, he looked himself over one last time and stepped away from the sink. He took a deep breath and twisted the doorknob.

He felt like a damned man walking towards the gallows.

* * *

><p>To say that Dave Karofsky was nervous would be a massive understatement.<p>

It had been almost a month since his engagement, and the subsequent weeks had done nothing to invalidate his misgivings. It wasn't that he had a problem with the bride-groom. In fact, if anything good had come of this shindig, it was that he was engaged to someone who was _way _ out of his league. That is, Dave was not an insecure person, but he was realistic, and he knew that without familial interference he would never have scored someone as gorgeous as Blaine.

Well.

That.

_Technically, _ Dave knew he was not supposed to see his fiancé until the actual wedding, but **patience **had never been one of Dave's virtues. And while he had complete and utter faith in his mother's choice, he also did not want to be blindsided on his wedding day.

So, like a super-smooth super genius that he was, he had invited Cooper out for drinks and swiped his phone when the idiot went to the washroom, and...

And.

Blaine... was beautiful. No, he was simply _GORGEOUS_! Dave had got an inkling of it during their meetings, but thanks to that ridiculous veil, he hadn't realized just _how_ BEAUTIFUL his future husband actually was. He was actually glad that he hadn't waited till his wedding to see him, because one look at that face without any warning and Dave would've swooned like a maudlin damsel.

No. The problem was not the groom, the problem was everything else.

This whole circus that was supposed to be his wedding day had gotten out of hand and, to Dave, it had started feeling like this whole thing was _around him_, instead of _about him_. Between his mother and Mrs. Anderson (who incidentally was called Pam – Pam Anderson; no relation to the fellow plastic Vegan, Pamela Anderson), Dave had started feeling like nothing but a glorified prop. The only opinion he had been called to give was on the cake and, even then, they had gone with some coconut-pineapple-orange thing rather than the simple chocolate-vanilla he had loved.

He had been forced to live in a hotel for a week while they renovated his house. His bed, wardrobe, sofa had all been thrown away to make space for the bigger, costlier versions suitable for a married couple. His furniture - hand-picked carefully in flea-markets and bargain sales, which with its own set of memories – had been replaced by the sleek modern variety; his walls were stripped of their loving pictures and posters to make room for the pretentious "Modern Art" that came highly recommended by the latest "Decorator of the Year". For some reason, there was now a big-ass Rainbow flag over his fireplace, because that was perfectly normal and not at all cringeworthy. They had even replaced his fucking _toilet, _for Christ's sake. It was so new and so _white _ that Dave had actually thought twice before using it.

And that was the problem, wasn't it? Blaine came from this world; this modern, ultra-chic, pretentious world. Dave didn't pretend that his family had been loving and _warm, _ but neither had it been this sterile. All he knew about his fiancé was that he was good-looking, a good-cook and "any man would be lucky to have him as his husband". He had no idea what Blaine's favorite color was, neither his favorite movie…

Hell, he didn't even know if Blaine wanted to be married to him in the first place. His parents had liked Dave because he was well-settled man with a decent job and his own house, but he had no idea if _Blaine_ even wanted any of it. Had he really liked Dave, or was he just too polite to go against his parents? Would Dave be happy being married to someone who didn't want to be married to him? Sure, they could always divorce, but one of the major drawbacks of arranged-marriages was that you couldn't end it without disappointing, well, almost everyone in your life.

And that. That terrified him. That he would be stuck in a loveless marriage with an equally reluctant person, because their _parents_ had made a mistake. Maybe it would have been better if he had put his foot down, like he had planned to.

Of course, like with everything else in his life, Dave arrived at this conclusion a bit too late. Cancelling the wedding now would only mean that everyone would fault Blaine – Dave was the "man", he was relatively safe – and Dave was not that selfish.

Maybe, he finally decided, he would give this marriage a try, if not for his own sake, then Blaine's.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Okay, so this chapter was supposed to be longer, complete with the wedding ceremony. But I'm running in circles, writing myself in corners, about it. But since this story is about what happens after the wedding, I've decided to post this as it is instead of letting it fester and give up on the entire thing (which is really my problem, if you're familiar with all my abandoned WIPs)... I might come back and write the ceremony if I get down to it. Until, then...

**Next Chapter, THE WEDDING NIGHT.**

**P.S. **Please leave reviews... I would really love to hear from/ commiserate with the fellow Bearcubbers/Blainofsky shippers.


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